


Moments Like This

by BellumGerere



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Gen, Prompt Fill, Rating May Change, Tags May Change, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-13
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-04-22 01:13:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14297529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BellumGerere/pseuds/BellumGerere
Summary: A collection of prompt fills, mostly from tumblr. The chapters don't go together unless I state otherwise, and I'll be updating the tags/characters/etc. as needed!





	1. The First Hour

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> does anyone else remember when I was like “hey I should reblog prompts and then people might send them to me and I’ll write them that would be cool right?” and people sent me prompts and some of them have been in my inbox for literal months???? Well I’m doing them now and I’m dumping them all into one ‘story’ on my fic sites but don’t be fooled, this is not a continuous story; it’s just prompt fills. I’m doing them in order of ‘how ridiculously long they’ve been in my inbox’ so if you sent me a prompt more recently it’ll be answered later. This first one is for tumblr user vengerberg and the prompt was from a list of lines of dialogue: “Are you really going to leave without asking me the question you’ve been dying to ask me?” (This is set more or less immediately after the end of "The Last Wish" - the story, not the quest, and I edited the dialogue prompt slightly, but I only added a word so it still counts lol)

They didn’t leave the ruined inn until the rain finally made its way through the rubble forming a barrier over them and started to drip down, leaving damp lines on their skin as they dressed. Yennefer had entreated Geralt to turn around—more like commanded him, actually—but he didn’t listen, and she didn’t complain. He had a feeling she had done it more out of habit than anything else; it was obvious enough that neither of them knew how to handle this situation. Geralt himself still couldn’t quite believe he’d done it. Clearly she couldn’t either.

When he finished re-fastening the belt that held his swords across his back and turned around, she was looking at him. There was something different about it, something less clinical, though he still felt awkward under her gaze as she looked him over. When she met his eyes he smiled faintly, hoping she would return it, but though her lips twitched up the slightest bit at the corners, her expression remained largely unchanged.

“So,” he said after a few minutes of silence, starting to look around for a way they could feasibly get out of the wreckage they were stranded in. “What now?”

She did smile at that, albeit barely, and turned with him, pulling one of the sleeves of her blouse higher up on her arm. “Now…” She sighed and looked around in the same direction as him. They could get out through the one intact window. He would likely have to help her through it, though he didn’t know whether or not she would even let him. And if she didn’t want to do that, they would have to force a doorway out of the rubble. It would be easy enough for either of them. “Now we go back out there. And…”

He watched her expectantly as she trailed off, and after another moment she huffed out a breath that could’ve been a laugh. “I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t know where to go from here.”

“Well.” He could see her picking up the scraps of the wall of indifference around her, reconstructing it brick by brick. She tried to smooth down her hair with her hand, but it sprung back into its curls almost instantly. “We should probably start with ‘out of this building.’”

She pressed her lips together and raised an eyebrow. It could’ve been entirely wishful thinking on his part, but it almost looked like she was holding back a smile. “That does seem a good place to start, doesn’t it?”

He didn’t trust himself to speak, so he nodded instead, moving over to the spot where the roof had collapsed around what had been the door. If he could move enough of the debris, they would have no trouble getting out. Then they (and ‘they’ mostly meant ‘Geralt’) would have to explain to Dandelion and everyone else waiting outside how, exactly, they had survived. He didn’t have the slightest idea what he would say. How could he even begin to explain a decision when he himself wasn’t sure why he’d made it?

“I’ll try to move some of these,” he said instead of voicing this concern, deciding it was probably safer not to bring it up. He grabbed one of the collapsed beams and pulled it roughly to the side, ignoring the pain where the splintered wood dug into the burnt flesh of his palms. “See if I can clear us a path that isn’t through a window.” He made to duck down under another beam, to see just how blocked the doorway actually was, but the sound of her voice stopped him short.

“And that’s it?” she asked, suddenly far closer than he thought she had been. On any other day, with any other woman, he would’ve been more acutely aware of the movements of the people around him. But on any other day he wouldn’t have just fought a djinn, and this wasn’t any other woman. This was her. “We’ll rejoin the crowd, just like that?”

There was something of amusement in her voice and he couldn’t bring himself to look at her, because if he did he would lose any desire to rejoin the world outside the collapsed inn. She waited a few moments before she spoke again, waiting for an answer that hadn’t come. “Are you really going to leave here without asking me the question you’ve been dying to ask me?”

He was dying to ask her a million questions, and he was sure she knew every single one of them; it seemed highly unlikely to him that she would have any qualms about reading his mind. But most of them were of a sensitive nature, the kind he didn’t want to broach with someone he had only just met, even considering the newfound bond they shared. He’d have to come up with something else, something that he could be reasonably sure wouldn’t set her on edge, not so soon. He bit the inside of his cheek hard enough to draw blood as he turned back to face her, struck once again at the sight of her. When she made her way over to him he rested his hands on either side of her waist without hesitation.

“I don’t suppose you know the location of the nearest intact inn?”


	2. In the Shade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow another prompt thing! these probably won’t all be up as fast as i’m posting them now, but i wanted to get moving on answering them all lol, i’m hoping that i can keep up a pace of one or two a week since these won’t be like, one-shot length. this one is for a tumblr anon, and it’s from the same list of dialogue prompts as the last one: “i’m not going to stop poking you until you give me some attention.” this takes place sometime after the end of blood & wine, after geralt kills the beast and yennefer has moved into corvo bianco (the only appropriate romance ending)

Geralt was still having trouble getting used to the quiet—staying in one place, sleeping in the same bed under the same roof every night, walking the same grounds during the day. After he’d solved Toussaint’s vampire problem things had moved so quickly; he’d barely even had time to stop and think about it. The investigation into the fifth victim, the ceremony, getting drunk in a cemetery, and then, after the dust had settled, returning to Corvo Bianco only to find her there. Yennefer. He never thought he’d see the day where she willingly ventured so far south, much less to see him. Their relationship had always consisted more of arguing than actually being happy, and even after everything that had happened in Skellige—even with the wish’s hold being broken—he hadn’t been sure how much would truly change.

But everything had changed about their relationship, it seemed; everything except Yennefer herself. She was still unmistakably the same: the sight of her, the coolness of her skin, her scent, none of that was different. And she continued to act as she always had, albeit on a smaller scale. A few days after her arrival, she’d asked him to move the chaise she liked so much to a shadier spot under a tree. In hindsight, he should’ve been glad for something to do, no matter how small a task, but when he complained about it she sighed, rolled her eyes, and levitated it over herself, staring uncomfortably at him the entire time.

No, the things that were different were the small things. How she was a bit more willing to smile fully at him, how there was never as much distance between them physically as she had insisted on putting in the past (though there were far fewer people around to see her resting her head on his shoulder or the like; the vineyard was so isolated that it had stopped being an issue in the first place). He had anticipated that she would quickly grow tired of sitting around, that she’d insist on starting some project to keep her occupied; in reality, it turned out to be the exact opposite. Geralt took on local contracts every few weeks, despite Yennefer’s urging him to stay home and “not leave her to fend for herself,” while she seemed content to sit under the tree, book in hand. Of course, there were still projects—she insisted on having most of the main house redone even after all the renovations he’d made prior to her arrival—but as long as she could keep an eye on things, she seemed more than happy to leave the manual labor to others.

On the days he wasn’t out on a contract (which were most days), he would often sit with her, on the ground in front of where she was lounging, and rest his head against her thigh or her hip, eyes closed, breathing her in. She didn’t act like she minded; on the contrary, she was clearly enjoying having him there, though she ignored him outwardly most of the time. Occasionally she would reach down and card her hand through his hair, or ghost her fingertips across his jawline, but that was a dangerous game—more often than not it would end with him pulling her down on top of him, much to the embarrassment of several workers who had had the misfortune of walking by at inopportune times, more than once. It had never bothered Yennefer at all, but Geralt felt more than a little awkward about it, so for the most part he tried to keep the displays of affection to a minimum. They were in the middle of converting the entire second floor into a master bedroom; once that was done, they would have plenty of room to be affectionate.

But those renovations wouldn’t be done for another several weeks, and after returning from a particularly annoying contract involving a vintner who didn’t understand the difference between arachnomorphs and regular spiders, he wanted nothing more than to be close to her, in whatever way he could be. When he’d initially gotten back to the vineyard, Yennefer had taken one look at him and insisted he take a bath before he got anywhere near her, a suggestion he agreed to readily. He did so, then wandered out to find her, in only his trousers and boots, hair pulled back—it was far too hot for much else. (Though he was beginning to get used to it, he still agreed with her initial complaints about the sun, not that he’d ever admit it to her.) She was laying in her usual spot, though instead of reading, she had her arm thrown over her eyes, shielding them from the light. He sat down in front of her, his back against the chaise, waiting for her to greet him as she normally did. Instead, she said nothing.

He briefly considered the possibility that she was asleep, but threw it out almost immediately; despite her preference for keeping a light on, she never could’ve done more than lightly doze in sunlight that direct. No, more than likely she was just ignoring him in favor of whatever was on her mind. (There were times that he wished the mind-reading went both ways—especially in these moments, he would want nothing more than to know what she was thinking.) Deciding to test this theory, he reached behind him and pressed his fingertip against her waist.

She didn’t respond, but he knew he’d been right—he could feel her exhale just the slightest bit deeper, possibly trying to hold back a laugh. That was all the reaction he got out of her, though, so after a moment he did it again. And again. She was putting on a remarkable display of resistance, but she couldn’t ignore him forever. Right?

“I’m not going to stop poking you until you give me some attention,” he said, turning to face her, and she heaved out a long-suffering sigh, moving her arm so she was using it to prop herself up instead as she looked at him. Her expression was one of complete seriousness, but he could tell she was happy to see him from the way her lips were pressed together just the slightest bit too tightly. He took a nearly absurd amount of pride in it, the fact that when she was around him she had to actually try to keep from smiling.

“Well, you’ve got some,” she said, looking him up and down. “I just hope you’ve got something important to— _oh_!”

She was cut off by him grabbing her other arm and pulling her down, rolling so she landed on top of him, her fingers curled over his shoulders, her hair falling in a dark curtain around him. He grinned at the exasperated look on her face as she rolled her eyes, the corners of her mouth tilting up.

“Missed you,” he said in response. “Got a lot to tell you about the contract I just fi—”

He stopped short when she lifted one of her hands to press a finger against his lips, effectively silencing him. She was smiling now, widely, and he felt his medallion vibrate faintly as she raised her other hand briefly, casting something. He hoped it was some sort of cloaking spell. It would certainly make things a bit less awkward for the workers. Yennefer raised an eyebrow. “You can tell me about it later,” she said, and kissed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this took way longer to write than i want to admit because i don't know how to do anything that isn't at least a little bit angsty


	3. Alone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow it’s me (finally) back with another prompt thing; i’ll try to keep the note short this time lol. this is for melasaik on tumblr, from the same dialogue list as the previous two: “when you love someone, you don’t just stop. ever. even when people roll their eyes or call you crazy…even then. especially then!” and the request was for that prompt with yennefer. (wow finally something angsty aldkfjaodk.). this is basically her thoughts immediately after geralt up and left following his six-month stay in vengerberg. the prompt has been edited slightly since i added a couple extra words of dialogue, but the general spirit is the same lol -bel

She would be lying if she said she hadn’t expected him to leave at some point. He hadn’t exactly kept his distaste for large cities hidden, and Vengerberg was certainly that. Yennefer lived, for the most part, a fairly stationary life, and Geralt was used to being constantly on the move, traveling along the Path. She had been able to feel him getting restless for months, nearly as long as his stay here had been—because apparently that was all it was. A stay. A stop along the road.

For hours she paced back and forth around her bedroom, stopping only to throw disdainful glances at the flowers on the table, the only evidence that he had been there at all. He’d taken all his things, not that he had much to begin with, and he’d been very thorough in making sure all traces of him disappeared. It was habit, she supposed, for him to cover his tracks, but that didn’t lessen the sting of the thought.

She had been stupid to believe something about him was different.

It didn’t take long for the crushing weight of the loneliness to hit her—she had been alone so rarely for the past six months that her own thoughts felt foreign, her own skin. They echoed in her mind until she feared she might be sick from them, that something in her would break down completely if she so much as dared to whisper his name out loud. Still, it circled in her head, an incessant drumming to match the tempo of her anger—because that was what it became, after a few days. Pure, unfettered anger.

Triss came as soon as she heard the news, as soon as she’d received the letter that had said little more about it than ‘I’m alone’ and far more on other topics. She’d always known how to pick out the important information. It had bothered Yennefer for years, the way that she sometimes saw things she wasn’t supposed to, things Yennefer hadn’t intended for her to see, but now she was glad for it. It was already out in the open. She wouldn’t have to say anything unless she wanted to—and she _wanted_ to, that much was certain. Part of her wanted to scream, to radiate her anger so strongly that he would feel it, no matter how far away he’d gotten by then.

But when the time came, and she was sitting on a rather uncomfortable chair in her kitchen while Triss made tea for them both (a skill Yennefer hadn’t even known she possessed), she found she had nothing to say. Triss had been mostly quiet, but Yennefer saw the glances she kept throwing her way, full of barely-disguised curiosity and confusion, and she knew it was only a matter of time before the younger of them spoke up. But she waited until the tea was done, at least, and in those moments of blissful silence Yennefer busied herself with staring at the swirls and whorls on the wooden table as if they were the most interesting thing in the world.

“So.” Triss set a teacup down in front of her and took a seat at the table herself, cradling her own drink carefully in her hands. “I hadn’t realized it was that serious.”

Yennefer watched the steam lazily drift up from the tea’s surface, and even though she’d agreed to the drink when Triss offered, she suddenly found she wasn’t thirsty in the slightest. In fact, her throat felt rather tight, as if she would just choke on anything she tried to swallow. “I don’t think he did either.” It was the truth, though a hard one—he could think whatever doting thoughts he wanted, but in the end, the rest had gotten the better of him. Others had.

Triss frowned. She’d pulled her legs up in front of her; it was a horribly improper way for her to sit at a table like this, but Yennefer was too preoccupied with her own dilemma to care. “What exactly happened? You didn’t say much in your letter.”

“There isn’t much to tell.” And even if there was, she thought, she wouldn’t know where to start—was there any way for her to summarize what had truly been going on these past six months? To explain why she’d been so absent? “He was here, and now he isn’t. I wish I could say what caused him to change his mind and leave, but clearly, his thoughts weren’t in line with his actions.” She shook her head slowly, finally reaching forward to curl her fingers around the rapidly cooling teacup. She didn’t intend on drinking any of it, at least not then, but it still felt good to have some semblance of warmth in her hands.

“So he didn’t say why.”

It wasn’t a question, but Yennefer nodded anyway. “He didn’t. But based on how his so-called friends seemed to react to me initially, I can hazard a guess.” Her lip curled in a combination of annoyance and disgust. She didn’t want to admit how this was affecting her, though she expected Triss was a safe person to admit these things to, if there even was such a thing. “When you love someone—or _think_ you do, I suppose—you don’t just stop. Even when people roll their eyes or call you crazy. Even then. Especially then.”

There was a hoarseness to her voice that she desperately wished wasn’t there, and she was sure Triss had picked up on it, but she didn’t comment. “No, you don’t,” she agreed instead. It was comforting to hear, but still—the pain lingered in the back of her mind. They sat there until her tea went cold and she forced herself to heat it back up and drink it, more so Triss wouldn’t worry about her than for any other reason, and though she didn’t want to acknowledge it, she knew it would not be so easy recovering from this one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry i only know how to write Sad Shit adljfaklfjalkf
> 
> someday. someday i will get through all these prompts. until then i'm posting bullshit about my ocs on twitter lmao


End file.
